


Disciple of Atlas

by Inky



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Macro/Micro, keith gets slippery and shiro holds up a planet nbd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 13:06:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inky/pseuds/Inky
Summary: Shiro is the god, Atlas. Keith is tiny and fits in the palm of his hand.





	Disciple of Atlas

**Author's Note:**

> i have no excuse for writing this and you have no excuse for reading this so we're going to hell together
> 
> \--[elle](https://twitter.com/inkweaving)

The endlessness of space is terrifying and lonely, Keith thinks, as he drifts aimlessly through the darkness. He feels warmth all around him despite his weightlessness. Giving an experimental flex of his fingers inside of the red paladin glove, he activates his jetpack and takes off into the eternal void. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, only that the battle has been won and he’s been finally, finally set free.

He pants against the glass of his paladin’s helmet, fogging it up in intermittent bursts as he scans his surroundings. He’s coming up on a planet—earth, he realizes—and he presses on, moving faster and faster as he exhausts his energy. Just how long has he been out here?

As he approaches earth, the void takes shape around him and he watches in silent awe as the planet slowly rotates before him. Keith’s weight shifts suddenly, making his stomach lurch as he feels his feet hit something solid. He looks down to where he’s actually standing on something solid, invisible. The endless expanse of space stretches out underneath him and it gives him a rush of vertigo. He looks up, firmly, grounding his vision on Earth, which floats above him. It's so vivid and real he’s sure he could reach out and touch it.

As he ponders the existence of the planet and perhaps even _himself_ , the stars beside him start to move and form a new shape. Keith watches as they group together and nearly blind him in their radiance. More and more stars build, until the shape that they’re forming is twice as large as him. Three times as large. A hundred times as large.

Keith backs away slowly, arms out at either side of him to balance himself. His lips fall open as he slowly cranes his neck to watch the figure forming underneath earth. The starlight becomes the shape of a man, and as they form the hard lines of his body, he becomes increasingly solid and corporeal. His sheer size makes all of his movements seem slow as he lifts his hulking arms and takes hold of the earth from the underside, holding it up.

Atlas.

Keith tumbles over, tripping himself on his own feet. He keeps himself propped up with his hands braced behind him, absolutely awestruck. Atlas’s features continue to solidify; he is dressed in nothing but flowing robes made of starlight, and his hair takes on an angelic white hue, floating around his head as if submerged in water. His face forms last, and Keith feels his lungs expand and threaten to burst inside of him as he recognizes the hard jaw and the jagged edge of a familiar scar.

“ _Shiro?_ ” Keith whispers. Atlas finishes forming and sure enough, it’s not just the god but Shiro himself, holding up the planet with his one flesh arm and one disembodied, metallic forearm. Speechless, Keith flaps his lips and tries to think of anything to say. Instead, he manages a ragged, “Holy _shit_.”

Atlas—no, Shiro—looks straight down at him, his lips curved into a soft smile. _Shiro’s_ smile, so easy and soft and kind. He just gazes down at Keith like a benevolent angel would look down upon their disciple. Keith can’t move, trembling under the weight of such a holy gaze.

Instead, it’s Shiro who moves. He shifts the planet he’s so casually holding over his head so all of its weight is on the disembodied metal arm. Every tiny movement Atlas-Shiro makes sends rumbling tremors through the very fabric of space, jostling Keith and making him woozy. As he sits there, stunned, he barely reacts to the looming shadow over him.

Shiro’s reaching for him.

“Oh—oh, shit!” Keith chokes, willing the fear in his heart to kickstart his legs back into action. He flips over and scrambles to get away, but his comparatively tiny legs are no match for the speed of Shiro’s massive hand. Keith feels Shiro’s thumb and forefinger gently, oh so gently, pinch him right at the waist, stopping him in his tracks. Keith flails, shoving at the pads of his titanic fingers and kicking out his legs. Shiro’s hold on him is absolute, however, and Keith whimpers and yelps in terror as he’s lifted up higher and higher.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Keith concentrates on not barfing—he suddenly understands how Hunk feels—and clings to the crook of Shiro’s finger. He’s so goddamn big, Keith can almost slot his fingers into the space between the ridges of Shiro’s _fingerprints_.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh _shit_ —“ Keith chants as his world spins. He lands on a plush surface, bounces twice, and rolls to a stop. He lies there for a long moment, quivering and covering his head with his hands. However, instead of being crushed like a little insect, Keith just feels a gentle, soft tap on his back. He stirs, lifting his head and daring to open his eyes.

He’s in the palm of a giant hand, easily the size of a king-sized mattress and a half. Beneath him, the soft meat of Shiro’s hand yields to Keith’s knees as he sits up. He looks around, counting four huge fingers, a thumb, and...

He turns around and nearly screams as he comes face-to-face with Shiro’s giant face. Shiro’s eyes and his scar crinkle with mirth. Keith feels a slight rumbling sensation—is he laughing? A bit hesitant, Keith shakily gets to his feet and fights to balance on the plush flesh of Shiro’s hand. As if he can tell what’s wrong, Shiro moves his thumb, gently nudging Keith with it until Keith settles a hand on his thumbnail and grips him for balance.

“Shiro? What is this?” Keith asks in a shaking, breathless whisper. He’s panting and fogging up his helmet so much that he can barely see clearly. “What’s going on? Is this a dream?”

Shiro doesn’t say anything, and instead he smiles crookedly as he moves his thumb and gently pokes at the side of Keith’s head. He’s... tapping, almost insistently, on his helmet.

“My helmet? What?” Keith asks. His voice is still wavering, fear still gripping his heart, but... this is Shiro, and just the thought of that alone allows some semblance of comfort settle over his rapidly beating heart.

Again, Shiro taps at Keith’s helmet with his thumb. He crooks the knuckle of his thumb to tuck the nail into the crook of Keith’s neck. He slowly pushes upwards, knocking the helmet slightly askew.

“Y-You want me to take this off?”

Shiro’s head inclines a little—is that a nod? Keith can’t tell, but with trembling hands he lifts his helmet off his head. He’s surprised when he realizes he can breathe, and his mouth pops open in silent wonder. Once again, he feels the tremors of laughter radiating off of Shiro like an earthquake. He stumbles a little, dropping his helmet and scrambling to grab hold of Shiro’s thumb.

“What the hell is going on?” Keith asks, mostly rhetoric. Shiro’s hand moves minimally and he redoubles his grip on Shiro’s thumb, gasping as he’s jostled. Shiro only lifts Keith a little higher so their eyes are more aligned. His thumb moves and Keith moves along with it, staring up at Shiro with wide eyes as he’s brought closer to Shiro’s face.

Shaking, he dares to reach out with one hand and touch the bridge of Shiro’s nose. The entirety of his hand fits within the boundaries of the mottled scar stretched across his skin. Up this close, he can see the stars manifested beneath Shiro’s flesh, his face all dappled galaxies and starlight. Keith’s eyes widen and he feels his heart seize with awe.

“Shiro...”

Keith looks up, barely able to see past the tuft of angel hair floating above his forehead, and is able to see the magnificent horizon of earth just above them.

Before he has time to admire the view, he feels the insistent press of a finger again. This time, it’s at his back. Shiro’s middle fingernail catches on Keith’s chestpiece from the back, trying to peel it off. Keith grips Shiro’s thumb tighter.

“Y-You want this off, too?” Keith asks. He swallows and uses one hand to hang on tight to Shiro’s hand. He uses the others to release the clasps of his chestpiece and loosen it. When everything’s loose, he hesitates, not wanting to let go of Shiro’s thumb for fear of somehow tumbling and plummeting to his death. However, Shiro moves his thumb again to settle it overtop of Keith’s feet, keeping him steady while Keith hurries to shuck his chestpiece, pauldrons, and bracers. His gauntlets join the heap gathering  on Shiro’s palm. When he looks back at Shiro’s face, he doesn’t see his armor float off weightlessly, as if gravity no longer influences them.

Shiro keeps prodding at Keith until all of his armor has been removed, leaving him in the skintight black undersuit he wears underneath. Feeling more than a little exposed, Keith trembles like a leaf, almost hugging Shiro’s thumb to keep himself steady on buckling knees. He doesn't want to think about the gravity somehow working here, and how high up he is.

For the life of him, he can’t figure out why all of this seems so... intimate. Erotic, even. He’s fully covered from his neck to his toes, and yet he has never felt more naked under the gaze of the titan. He can’t stop shaking and it drives him mad as it makes his muscles ache and scream for him to sit or lie down. He settles for continuing to almost drape his arms over Shiro’s thumb, leaning almost completely on his godly strength.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m—“ Keith begins. He jolts and abruptly cuts off as he feels one of Shiro’s fingers touch his back with the very tip and rub slowly, up and down. Shiro lowers his thumb more and more, until Keith’s set down and kneeling on Shiro’s palm. Shiro’s thumb retreats and Keith warbles in protest. He doesn’t dare get up to chase it, instead planting his hands on Shiro’s palm to keep himself steady.

From behind him, Shiro’s finger keeps rubbing up and down his back, tracing the thin line of his zipper. Keith gives an involuntary shudder. His eyelashes flutter shut and he lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Without realizing it, his knees spread until he’s almost resting his crotch completely in Shiro’s soft palm. The outline of his dick starts to press against the bodysuit, keeping it pulled taut against his lithe body.

There’s more of that rumbling sensation as Shiro chuckles silently. Shiro’s thumb returns, only to use the very end of the nail to tip Keith’s chin up and see the ruddy, patchy blush on his face and the glaze in his eyes. Shiro’s scar crinkles and, even though Keith can’t see it from this angle, he knows Shiro is smiling.

“Sh-Shiro, what’s—“ Keith begins, but he cuts off with a yelp of surprise as the finger that’s stroking his back dips down lower and nudges firmly at his ass. Keith’s eyes widen as he’s jostled. He looks down as Shiro’s finger manages to get between his legs so he’s straddling it. It starts to rub back and forth, providing sweet friction to his taint and his balls. He gasps, “Oh, _oh_ —“

He’s helpless to do anything about it, Shiro’s thumb coming up flush against him and pinning Keith’s chest in place as he continues to rub between Keith’s thighs. The sheer width of Shiro’s finger has Keith’s legs spread wide, his knees no longer pressed to Shiro’s palm. His toes dig helplessly in, barely able to keep him steady as Shiro... toys with him.

His hips are just beginning to ache when Shiro’s finger retreats. He falls back onto Shiro’s palm, an embarrassing whimpering noise torn from his throat as he does. Weak and boneless, he flops fully down, his legs spread on either side of him as he pants. His cock strains against the material of his body suit, painfully and helplessly aroused. As he tries to catch his breath, Shiro’s thumb pushes on the center of his chest until Keith falls back with an _oomph_. Before he can sit up, Shiro’s thumb is there, pinning him down and starting to rub up and down his front.

“Oh, oh _god_ —“ Keith pants, squirming in vain underneath Shiro’s thumb. It’s too much, and he weakly bucks his hips upwards, desperate for more friction. His legs fall open on either side of Shiro's thumb, and normally he’d find it in his heart to be embarrassed by such a thing, but right now he just wants more and more pressure on his dick. Planting the soles of his feet into Shiro’s palm, he does as best as he can to thrust upwards against Shiro’s thumb, panting harshly and digging his fingers into the flesh underneath him.

Once again, right before he can cum, Shiro pulls away and Keith almost screams at the loss. He’s leaking now, and there’s a visible wet spot forming on the crotch of his undersuit. He lies there, squirming in his maddening arousal and completely at the god’s mercy. Shiro just seems amused.

“Shiro, _please_ —“ Keith groans. When he tries to reach down to palm himself, Shiro jostles his palm and sends Keith rolling onto his belly. His inhibitions fly out the window as he ruts desperately against Shiro’s soft palm. More rumbling laughter.

Before he can get too into it, Keith gasps as a huge shadow passes over him. He looks over his shoulder, only to come face to face with Shiro’s lips. His eyes widen as Shiro presses a kiss to Keith’s back. His mouth is definitely big enough to eat Keith whole, and the thought makes a heavy weight drop into his stomach. He curses, trying to squirm away, but Shiro smooches his butt and it’s literally enough to slam his hips into Shiro’s palm.

“ _Ahh!_ ” he cries, his cock giving an involuntary twitch inside of his undersuit. He barely has time to react before Shiro’s opening his mouth. Absolutely sure he’s going to be eaten, Keith panics and tries to crawl away, only for Shiro to drag his heavy tongue up the length of Keith’s entire body. The sheer weight of it presses him flat into Shiro’s hand. Keith squeezes his eyes shut as Shiro’s tongue passes over his shoulders and head, instantly covering him in a shining blanket of saliva. He splutters and scrapes his face clean with his hand.

His entire world spins yet again as he’s flipped onto his back again. He’s barely got his eyes open before he feels Shiro’s tongue again, lapping at him from his toes all the way up his legs, and then over his cock. Electricity bolts through him and Keith keens again, arching helplessly until the tongue passes over his chest and forces him back down. He holds his breath just before Shiro licks past his face, coating him in yet another layer of spit.

By all means, it should be disgusting.

Keith’s not disgusted.

He only burns hotter.

Panting harshly, Keith moans and pushes himself up. Or, at least, he tries. He slips on the slick covering him from head to toe and he flops back down onto Shiro’s palm. He doesn’t need to look to know Shiro’s grinning at him. Instead, he whimpers and rolls, trying to get onto his belly . He manages that at least, but can’t lift himself properly onto his hands and knees, continuing to slip and fall over.

When he’s too exhausted to try anymore, he flops down in a prone position, panting with his cheek pressed to the palm of Shiro’s hand and his hair plastered to his head.

Shiro doesn’t seem to be done with him. Keith shivers as he feels Shiro’s thumb at his back again, stroking up and down. His thumbnail prods at the top of Keith’s zipper, trying to catch on it so he can pull it down. Keith’s hips weakly buck against Shiro’s palm at the thought of his body being bared to the massive god. Mustering up all of his energy, he reaches up and back to tease his zipper down. When it’s down enough, he shifts his arms to pull the zipper down the rest of the way.

It’s impossible to take off his undersuit when he’s still so slippery, so Shiro helpfully offers his thumb for Keith to grab onto. Shiro drags him to a drier spot of his palm and helps him get up onto his knees. Keeping his eyes on Shiro, Keith starts to peel the soaking wet undersuit off of his body. Shiro watches him, eyes unreadable but glimmering with starlight. He watches Keith’s every move, keeping him at the very center of his godly attention, and it sends blood straight to his cock.

Keith manages to get the top portion of his undersuit off and pushes himself up so he can shimmy out of the bottom portion. As soon as the cloth is off of his hips, Shiro’s thumb is pushing him down again, sending him sprawling onto his back. Shiro’s thumb hooks on the material of Keith’s suit and tugs it the rest of the way off his legs, leaving him naked in the center of Shiro’s palm. Impossibly, Shiro’s eyes become even softer. Keith gulps and looks down at himself, already soaked. His cock stands harder than a diamond, pulsing every few moments and sending beads of precum rolling down his shaft and gathering in a puddle at his crotch.

Something glints in Shiro’s eye and Keith gasps as Shiro shifts his hand. He tilts it forward, and Keith feels a hot rush of panic as he starts to slip down Shiro’s palm, towards his wrist. He scrabbles for purchase on Shiro’s flesh, but he doesn’t fall far. Shiro brings him forward to kiss him again, pinning him there by the chest. Keith squirms, gasping and panting for air as Shiro smothers him once again with his tongue. He licks again and again, pressing Keith to his tongue and grinding it hard against his body. It punches the air out of his lungs and Keith’s arms flail as he throws his head back, choking and sputtering.

“Ah, ahh—shit, Shiro! _Shiro!_ ” he cries. Despite the lack of oxygen, his cock aches, pinned between Shiro’s tongue and his belly. He wheezes, “O-Oh, oh god, I’m—mmn, fuck, _I’m going to, I’m--!”_

Keith spasms against Shiro’s hand as he cums violently, his spunk lost in the froth of Shiro’s spit. Shiro forces it all out of him, wringing out every last drop inside of him. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, however, and Keith screams with the overstimulation. His cock seizes and jerks, unable to cum a second time, and he wails in searing hot pleasure-pain until tears are leaking from his eyes and mixing with the saliva that coats him.

By the time Shiro finally relents, Keith is utterly ruined. He quivers in the center of Shiro’s palm, thick globs dripping down from his body and pooling all around him. He barely registers it when Shiro adjusts him in his palm and rolls him over. His thumb folds and pushes itself under Keith’s hips, forcing him to drape over his knuckle. His asscheeks spread wide open, baring his pucker to the god’s eyes.

Shiro’s middle and ring fingers lower to brace on Keith’s shoulders, holding him in place. Keith barely has time to look over his shoulder in question before he feels Shiro’s tongue again, laving over his backside. It’s so large that it envelops the entirety of his ass and the backs of his thighs. With every pass, he brushes over Keith’s twitching dick and screams tear themselves from Keith’s throat without him meaning them to.

The torture is long and merciless. Keith sobs and throws his head back. Despite everything, his body is reacting again, and he feels himself become hard and heavy between his legs all over again.

Shiro’s tongue pauses, however, and Keith weakly glances over his shoulder just in time to see Shiro making a point with his tongue and prodding at Keith’s hole. It’s still thicker than his thigh, and Keith’s eyes widen in terror as he realizes what Shiro’s trying to do.

“N-No! No, please, it’s too big! It’s not going to fit! Shiro _, please!_ ” Keith begs, his voice coming out a garbled mess as he sobs openly. His legs kick out behind him, trying to flail and get away. Shiro just looks at him, crooking his tongue just right. The ridges of his tastebuds are so massive that Keith can feel every single one as they roll over his throbbing asshole.

Just like that, he cums a second time, shrieking through it and twitching weakly against the side of Shiro’s thumb. Shiro prods his hole again but doesn’t try to shove it in. Keith feels that rumbling laugh again and realizes Shiro had only been teasing him.

“Y-You...” Keith whispers, feeling lightheaded. He shuts his eyes as Shiro places a fond, feather-light kiss on his ass and the backs of his soaked thighs. Thick, sticky globs of saliva roll down his inner thighs and drip into a puddle gathering in Shiro’s palm. Keith feels his eyes rolling in his head as the edges of his consciousness turn foggy. “Shiro...”

He slumps over Shiro’s thumb and goes limp as darkness claims him.

-*-

Keith’s eyebrows wrinkle. He stirs and shifts, a low groan escaping him as his eyelashes flutter and he opens his eyes. He is no longer surrounded by the endless expanse of space. There are no giant figures of starlight that look like Shiro. Best of all, there’s no slick. Well, no, that’s not true...

Keith winces as his hips shift and he feels a wet patch stuck to the inside of his hospital pants. Oh, right.

He’s back in his hospital room. As he awakens more and more, the dull pain that has been occupying his bones slowly creeps back and he lets out a long, low moan.

“...Are you going to do this to me again?”

The random, strained voice makes Keith gasp. He turns his head too fast and groans with pain, but through it he sees Shiro sitting beside him, looking as pale as a ghost.

“Shiro?” Keith rasps. He clears his throat and lets his head settle back in his pillow as he looks Shiro over. His commander’s uniform is rumpled, the first couple buttons undone. Shiro’s hands are knotted in his slacks with a white-knuckle grip, and... oh.

There’s an impressive tent in those pants. Keith’s eyes bug out and he snaps his gaze back to Shiro.

“You were... having... some intense dreams, I think,” Shiro sputters. The blood is returning to his face, and it comes back in a furious red blush. Keith realizes exactly what had happened and the color that blooms over his cheeks rivals the color on Shiro's.

“Oh... my _god_ ,” he wheezes. Shiro pinches his lips tight and looks away from Keith as fast as he can.

“N-No one else was here, but. You were... saying my name. So. The door is closed, at least.”

Keith lets out a groan, weakly lifting his hand and smacking himself in the face with it. It hurts, but he feels like he deserves it.

“Kill me,” he moans.

“It’s... it’s alright. W-We couldn’t... really do much, together... when uh... during the trip back to earth, you know, so... it’s. I’ve been having those types of dreams, too. Good dreams.”

Keith looks up as he feels Shiro’s hand settle over his own. The cool metal of Shiro’s prosthetic sends a shiver through Keith’s body, reminding him of his dream.

“It was... interesting,” Keith admits. Shiro’s low, rumbling chuckle makes him bite his lip, and he flips his hand around to better grip Shiro’s fingers and tug. Shiro slowly stands, coming to Keith’s bedside and giving Keith an eyeful of the bulge still straining against the front of the slacks.

“Want to tell me about it?”

His husky voice has Keith letting out a laugh he can’t hold back. Smirking up at Shiro, Keith reaches for the front of his pants and hooks his fingers in the belt. Shiro gives a feeble roll of his hips, breath stuttering.

“Maybe... after you tell me about the dreams _you've_ had, _Atlas_.”

**Author's Note:**

> [please kinkshame me on twitter](https://twitter.com/weavelle)


End file.
